Earth Pangs

We’ll get our fill of gloomy news, analyses, debates and features on Earth Day tomorrow. However, it might bring us more cheer if we recall and enjoy the efforts of some who have done a great job of celebrating the Earth — every day.

One such is Steve Lall and his family who live cheek-by-jowl with leopards and ‘barah-singhi’, (deer), butterflies and birds in the wild, high up in the hills of Kumaon, where they have returned a hundred-odd acre forest of oak and rhododendron to nature. Oh yes, six dogs, local breeds, live there too, some friendly, others not so. They have a free run of the place. Two among them — Dhannu and Kali — became our constant companions and guides, sometimes following, other times leading, on rough-hewn paths thickly carpeted with fallen pine cones, leaves and flowers.

Once you get off the Ranikhet Express — after the 300km, overnight train ride from Delhi — at the Kathgodam railway station, take the one-hour taxi ride to Matial via Bhimtal. Then all you have to do is trek two kilometres up the hill and Jilling Estate opens its arms wide to embrace you, brambles and all, with the promise of an experience that could transform your life, and that’s no exaggeration. The trek is meant to deter the insensitive visitor of who we have plenty of in most holiday destinations. No hooting, shouting, loud music or plastic-paper-can litter; no television, no telephones — barring your own mobile phone if you are carrying one.

Ramlal, the ponywallah, was waiting for us at Matial but I brushed aside the offer of a pony ride up the hill. So he walked up with us — with my daughter Maya and me — and in ten minutes huffing and puffing, I found myself handing him my backpack. Another ten minutes and off came my jacket, and Ramlal slung it over his arm, smiling. But determined, I did trek all the way up with a few pauses along the way, breathing in the air rich with the scent of pine and peas — we had just walked past a clearing that had a crop of green peas.

Normally, we’re told, the trek takes an hour to complete. But having led a sedentary life, I took all of 90 minutes to climb the cobbled bridle path before reaching our destination, the cottage that was the post-retirement home of Steve’s parents, John and Hope. This is also where they are laid to rest, in the very lap of the wilderness they so loved, on the hillside behind the cottage.

Then it dawned on me — you don’t have to do much at all to conserve nature. You just have to let it be. And that’s what they’ve done at Jilling. There are no manicured lawns, potted plants or flowerbeds. No wrought iron furniture outside, just shaved tree stumps and blocks of stone. Water supply is straight from the springs. There are no electric heaters in the rooms, but there are fireplaces where real log fires are lit in the evenings. The food served to us had fresh, chemical-free vegetables grown right at Jilling and the milk came from the cows, also in Jilling.

Sipping tea in the morning, seated on the little porch that faced the Himalayas, it was exciting and relaxing to view clearly the snow-capped twin peaks of Nanda Devi, India’s second highest mountain. Dhannu and Kali were there, too, perched on the low stonewall, gazing thoughtfully in the distance. The four of us were at peace, totally, basking in the warmth of the early morning sun. Until Dhannu and Kali decided to chase the flitting butterflies!

The three hour trek to The Ridge and back — with its bird life and trees, insects and rhododendrons, and the stunning view of the valley below — was definitely more instructive and inspiring than an angry demonstration by green activists or a grave (and boring) seminar on climate change. We could feel intensely, the symbiotic relationship we share with what can only be described as a wonderful gift — Planet Earth with all its treasures, all ours to discover and experience — which we so ungraciously desecrate. Why can’t we encourage a thousand Jillings to bloom?

DISCLAIMER : Views expressed above are the author's own.

Comments on this post are closed now

Be the first one to review.

Author

Narayani Ganesh is a senior editor with The Times of India. She writes on issues concerning the environment, science and technology, travel and tourism, heritage, philosophy, and health. She edits The Speaking Tree Sunday newspaper and daily column of that name, and is a leader writer with the Times of India opinion pages.

Narayani Ganesh is a senior editor with The Times of India. She writes on issues concerning the environment, science and technology, travel and tourism, her. . .